


what if this storm ends?

by helplesslynerdy



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helplesslynerdy/pseuds/helplesslynerdy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Metacrisis Doctor and Rose have had four years to wait for the TARDIS to grow.</p><p>Four years to create a new life.</p><p>But then they get stuck in WWII.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. crack the shutters.

A shudder ran through Rose’s skin, a reverberation from the grating beneath her feet. The lights flickered, and the hallways moved like a club with a DJ a little too excited with his control over the strobe light. She kept her hands tentatively in front of her, braced for a potential impact with each step.

A sickly green glow came from the console room, its emergency lights offering a steadiness her retinas gladly accepted.

What she saw, however, didn’t comfort her in the least.

The Doctor was standing, face impassive, staring at the console monitor.

The _blank_ console monitor.

The only thing that would convey any emotion was the fact that his hands were clenched into fists at his side.

It looked too familiar to what had happened the last time they had travelled on this side of the universal divide.

Rose reached out and touched the hand closest to her, concern growing when it took longer than usual for his fingers to uncurl so she could take them. “Doctor,” she whispered. “She okay?”

His eyes glanced over the console before settling on her. “Adjusting to being in this universe. One thing that Donna didn’t anticipate,” Rose winced internally at the name, though he didn’t look as he normally did, “was that though she had grown here, the new TARDIS would have to adapt to being in this universe as well. That’s all she’s doing.”

But if that was it, why weren’t they out exploring already?

“But-?” she prompted.

He took in a large breath, letting it out before continuing, “But I don’t know how long it’s going to take for her to do that.”

Her thumb ran absently over his knuckles as she closed her eyes against the implication. “…so we’re stuck- wherever we are?”

“We are indefinitely stuck.”

~oOo~

**seven hours earlier. Pete** **’** **s world. 25/04/2012.**

_I am an adult_.

Rose's eyes traced over the whorls and eddies of the plaster on her ceiling. The thought was one that she hadn't been able to lift since her eyes had opened with the first light of the new day. She shifted, her shoulders settling flat as her lower spine popped, the sheet pulled up under her arms. Her eyes finally lighted on a familiar plaster cluster, and the memory it owned-

_"Hrothgar."_

_"Hmm?" She blinked as her racing heart began to slow, the red flush covering her chest and face starting to recede._

_His hand, still entwined with hers, rose to point at a glob of ceiling mortar. "Looks a bit like a cat, yeah?" The Doctor's arm slowly lowered back to its place over her waist._

_Her breath let out in an almost laugh as one of her eyebrows raised, quite automatically. "This is a bit...weird for post-conversation." Leaning over, she bit his shoulder playfully. "Even for you."_

_He rolled towards her, leaning up on an elbow. "What?" He sniffed. "It's a good, strong Norse name._ Beowulf _, you know. Any feline would be more than pleased to bear that moniker."_

_The teasing look in her eyes softened. "Thought you didn't like cats anymore. Wimples and all that." She shivered as his fingertips started playing connect-the-dots along the moles on her arm._

_Those large brown eyes lost focus somewhere behind her. "Maybe I'm warming up to the idea."_

The whim had become a reality, a Russian blue that had just given up scratching at their door. Better than a snooze, that one. He'd be back soon enough. In fact, Hrothgar was the real reason for her existential...thoughts. She hesitated to call it a full-blown crisis.

She'd been a legal adult for over a decade, but she'd never really felt like one. Listening to others talk about it, she wasn't the only one. But as she had been traveling for the good part of the first few years of her adulthood, there hadn't been time to think about it. Not much time to reflect on the changes in your life when you're covered in silver goop, running from a tentacled alien with your traveling partner- who had just insulted said alien's ancestors by swimming in the sacred pool.

But when she ended up here the first time, there was more than enough time to reflect. Too much of it. She had thrown herself into her work at Torchwood, but every once in a while she'd allow herself to be taken aback by the significance of milestones- _the first checking account, first flat with her name on the lease._  

The memory of that time caused Rose's breath to catch, and she quickly turned to the man sharing her bed. The Oncoming Storm- mouth slightly ajar, hair sticking in every which way. A tiny puddle of drool that he will firmly deny existing in a couple of hours was forming beneath the corner of his mouth. 

 _"I'm here_." Every once in a while, though it was much less frequent, he'd catch her glancing quickly to him, breath caught in her throat. Even in the middle of the grocer's, he would fold her into his arms, whispering those words into her hairline. 

It was all thoroughly domestic- much to her amusement, and the Doctor's begrudging acceptance. Much like the other aspects of their life. Her thumb absently rubbed against the ring on her left hand, its links of figure eights a symbol representing the forever she had promised him a long time ago. The band glinted in the golden light drifting in as she fluttered her fingers. Just a little more formal now. She pressed the hand to her sternum momentarily before finally sitting up. 

Rose stood to her feet, bracing her palms against the small of her back. Her knees protested each forward step as she went into the loo to start up a shower.

As the hot water pounded its steady rhythm against her skin, soothing her muscles, she went over what she had to do that day. What she now had to do to prepare to leave. Hrothgar had to be dropped off at her Mum and Pete's with enough food for a few days in case something happened. She had to finish up the Jameson file and drop it off at the director's office before they could be off. Turn off the taps and unplug the appliances in their flat.

No longer could she and the Doctor just be off and away without a thought for the consequences. She closed her eyes as she let the spray start from the top of her head and pour down her face. 

_I am an adult._

~oOo~ 

_Mrrrow?_

The Doctor snuffled, burying his face further into the pillow. "'S too early." More insistent scratching at the door was the only response he got. Dragging a hand down his face, he rolled forward, slinging his feet over the side. He groaned as he popped his toes and back, the sound quickly turning into a hiss as his feet touched the cold wood floor. 

A blur of gray fur twisted around his feet as soon as he opened the door. Each potential trip caused by Hrothgar's affection was punctuated with a mumbled curse, covering several languages by the time he reached the kitchen.

The can popped open and the cat happily face first in his breakfast, the Doctor set to making his and Rose's morning tea. Kettle on, chai and lapsang souchong blend out. He pulled out a barstool and sat at a mini nook, picking his work mobile off its charger. The glare of the screen had him squinting until he put on his glasses, now with an actual prescription. Slightly nearsighted. Just another thing on the list of many quirks he'd picked up since that day four years ago. 

Four years since he'd been traveling. 

With a flick of his wrist, the UNIT-issue smartphone was across the table. Nothing of interest. He only went in if it was something that he was actually _needed_ for, not to have a desk and file paperwork, or some such rubbish. Pete and Rose, but especially Pete, had expected him to go to Torchwood initially.

After a lot of conversations and one of their first _real_ fights, both he and Rose agreed that it was best that he was not considered a Torchwood employee. But he did help- if the case suited, and if he had to keep them from showing their arses intergalactically. Flitting about, will-o'-the-wisp, and somehow money got deposited into his account every other week. Not that he paid much attention to that either.

And it wasn't like they didn't have brilliant Rose, whom they did not deserve- in his quite experienced opinion.

He smiled softly as he heard the object of his thoughts singing some song by...Heart, was it? His tongue rested against the back of his front teeth as he tried to pick up the lyric. _"...always got by on my own. I never really cared until I met you."_

A tail brushing under his chin caused him to start and glare down at the feline offender, intermittently batting his paws up at the Doctor. With a huff, he scooped up Hrothgar against his shoulder as he poured the now-hot water over both of mugs with tea already set to steep. It was something he had used to do on the TARDIS, once.

And would be doing again.

Driving both of the super-duper-top-secret organizations crazy was his bread and butter now. In fact, this little life that he and his _wife_ had carved out for themselves was rather...

Nice.

Enjoyable.

Comfortable.

A part of him always longed to be out among the stars, _of course it did_ , but there was a creeping...something. He shook his head. He had a sinking feeling that he was too content.

What happens if you stop waiting for the other shoe to drop?

The call for adventure should have him climbing the walls. He should be constantly dragging Rose all over this planet since Daddy took his T-Bird away, or at least, gave him a fender to start building his own.

So to speak.

But if he had been constantly running, he wouldn't know what Rose looked like as she brushed a wisp of hair away with her wrist, bright yellow gloves protecting her hands from the bleach in the bathroom cleaner. Or how happy his cat was to see him each day when he walked (or staggered) in of an evening. Or how quickly said cat was over his presence and sauntering off into another room, but that was beside the point. Initial joy. He'd take what he could where the fickle love of the cat was concerned.

When did this become his life? Moreover, when did this become the life he _wanted_? Rose was so worried in the beginning that it would be too slow for him, too confining.

And he knew that a part of him always wanted to try the slow path, but he never saw himself relishing in it. Calmly waiting for the TARDIS for over four years.

Was the human part of him completely taking over? Why wasn't he more claustrophobic? 

Rose padded out into the kitchen, a freshly scrubbed face grinning up at him, towel wrapped around her hair. The corners of his mouth rose instinctually, widening as she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Morning."

~oOo~

**the Tyler flat.  six and a half hours later.**

Rose rubbed a crunchy bit of hair between her thumb and forefinger. Tony had been in fine form that afternoon, his face a mess of jam and peanut butter. Some of which had obviously transferred to her hair when he kissed her goodbye. Honestly, she was glad that Jackie was more than a little distracted. Tony made her feel less…guilty about up and leaving. And Hrothgar would be fine- as his self-preservation caused him to immediately dart under the nearest sofa. 

Jackie had held on to her until a crash from the living area pulled her away.

They’d be fine.

And now it was on to their next adventure.

Rose was a little…nervous. Would it bring back too much? Would she take to it as she had? Would it…she shook her head. No reason to be mulling over the what ifs. She’d already dedicated almost two years to that before- hell if she were going to do it again.

The Doctor was out in their garden with the new TARDIS, who was currently doubling as a shed. It had been weird to watch it grow- altering from various garden tools as it grew- but it was now a boring, old shed.

She missed the blue, but the Doctor had assured her that he could eventually fix it. 

Okay, Tyler. Now or never. 

Taking in a deep breath, she pushed on the door. The sight before her made her chest constrict. 

It was the TARDIS.

The grating, the coral-like struts, the soft lighting- all of it was there. Just as she had remembered. She was never more thankful for her Torchwood training at emotion concealment.

But where was he?

Just as she was about to round the console, the Doctor emerged from the back, his overcoat slung over his arm. The sense of déjà vu was almost overwhelming.

“Rose!” He smiled, an easy light thing that grounded her again. It was all right. He hopped up to where she was standing and pecked her on the forehead. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” She ran a hand along the familiar texture of a strut. “I wasn’t sure if she’d look the same.” 

“Ah, this is the original setting. Nitty-gritty. It’s most like what TARDIS look like when they’re growing. After the War,” there was never a question what war was capitalized for him, “she had to have a bit to get used to herself.” He sucked in a breath before his smile returned. “But it’s classic, right? Very homey to me- at least to this body.”

“I still love it.”

While waiting for the TARDIS to finish her growth in the last couple of months, they had made a game of her guessing where they were going first. 

“So now that we’re actually onboard, give us a hint of where we’re going.” She narrowed her gaze. When he didn’t answer, she continued, “Poosh.”

“Nope.” He grinned, throwing a switch. “Not until we’re there. In fact,” he pumped the hydraulics a couple of times, “why don’t you go figure out what room we’re going to use? It’ll only be a few minutes until we land.”

She blew a raspberry in his direction before turning to walk down the first corridor. 

Once she knew he couldn’t see her, she rolled her eyes affectionately. He was so obviously excited about surprising her, and she didn’t want to ruin that for him.

The corridors to the TARDIS were set up much the same, and she was about to turn down to the area that used to have the bedrooms when the TARDIS made a little hop like it was landing.

Then the lights went out.

~oOo~

**TARDIS. present time.**

Stuck.

Connotation can be a hell unto itself.

Even after four years, the Doctor had to squelch every instinct he had to start tearing the TARDIS apart to find a spark and jumpstart the healing process. Not that he had the time energy to spare to pass on to her. Just the one life.

The Doctor sniffed and realized that Rose was still looking up at him, waiting for him to say or do something. His chest swelled. Brilliant Rose, Bad Wolf, universe traverser- she still believed that he would figure something out and save the day. Still.

He hadn’t moved, and she was still looking up at him, the concern growing. He sniffed and covered. “Right then! Let’s go see where we’ve landed.” 

A hand kept him from continuing down the ramp. “We could be anywhere. Shouldn’t we prepare?” He watched as her hand instinctively brushed against her side, where her Torchwood issue gear normally rested.

Torn between being proud and a little disheartened, the Doctor shook his head quickly. “Nah. Didn't plan on an off-planet trip. Actually thought- well,” he rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, definitely not making eye contact. Marriage, though a much more enjoyable agreement on Earth than on Gallifrey had given one Rose Tyler more than enough time to perfect the smug smirk when she caught him at something. Which was becoming more and more frequent than he was comfortable with, if he were honest.

“Ah,” she said a little _too_ delicately. “So where had you planned on taking us then?”

He shrugged, still not looking down at her. “2005.”

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see her biting on her bottom lip, trying to hold in her mirth. “Mmm. Well, I guess we wouldn’t be crossing timelines as we were here in 2006, yeah?” Insufferable thing nudged his arm. “Go on then- tell me where we were going.” 

He sighed, and finally looked down at her. “Barcelona.”

The mirth in her face softened before she lightly hit him on the shoulder. “You’re such a sap.”

“It was romantic!” He tried to pull her towards him, but she pulled back, shaking her head, but still smiling.

“You just wanted a reward.”

He clucked his tongue. “It wouldn’t have been unappreciated.” She finally let the hands grasping at her waist draw her to him. “Still wouldn’t.”

“I’m sure it wouldn’t.” She allowed him to lean in, eyelids fluttering before she booped him on the nose, making him start. “But I have no idea if that’s where we actually are.” She grinned before neatly extracting herself from his arms. 

“No good ever comes to teases, Rose Tyler.”

“That so?” She was already down at the doors waiting. 

He sighed and pulled on his overcoat that Rose had taken from a parallel universe and kept. “After you.”

She opened the door to see that they were in a dark alleyway. The cobblestones were slick, and he could smell the rain that had just passed through. The only sound they heard was water as it continued to drip from all nearby surfaces. He looked back at his ship, the familiar blue box causing a pang of nostalgia.

But…wait. The chameleon circuit should be working. Yes, he probably would have fixed it to this shape eventually for old time’s sake, but she hadn’t matured enough for him to do it quite yet. 

“Any idea where we are?” Rose asked, bringing him back.

“London.” He said automatically.

All of a sudden, a piercing siren blasted over the otherwise calm night. In the distance, they could hear the drone of a group of planes approaching.

The Doctor tugged on her hand and pulled her back into the TARDIS. She may not have much power, but they still would be protected inside, and he told her as much. 

“Wait!” Rose said, grabbing his arm. “Airplanes are only used in this universe for military use. You said we’re in London.” 

He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.

Her eyes widened. “But then that means…”

A rueful chuckle escaped his lips. “Well, I was going for nostalgia.”

“…we’re in World War Two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lyrics used from Heart's "Alone."_


	2. hands open.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're stuck in WWII London. Might as well find somewhere to stay.

**TARDIS. 13/9/1940. the new present.**

_Click_.

The Doctor's eyes flickered up, watching the particles in the time rotor brighten just the slightest amount before fading again.

The rate at which the particles were acclimating was not consistent. Sometimes it would be only moments before he could see them again, and other times it would be a half hour or even longer intervals. Rose couldn't see _anything,_ which made him worry that there might be things _he_ was missing. Rubbish half-human retinas.

“Doctor?”

She squeezed his arm, and he looked down at her. “Hmm?”

“Gonna go get some rest, I think. You coming?” 

“Yeah. I’ll just finish up here.” 

She framed his face with her hands, pulling him down so she could kiss his forehead. “Don’t be too long.”

He hummed in agreement, and she took the ramp to the corridor. The light show had dimmed to a steady yellowish glow, which allowed her to find her way safely.

No water, though.

Next time, he'd need to make sure the backup reserves were at full charge.

If there were going to be a next time in this century.

The Doctor drew a hand down his face. They were parked in a relatively secluded part of London- at least the TARDIS would be safe. No factories nearby, and it was one of the few sparsely populated locations. This bit of London wouldn't be of interest to the German _Luftwaffe._ And the locals would pay it little heed.

Actually, it might still be here long after they were gone.

He shook his head. Rose would have told him to quit being maudlin, that they had gotten out of much worse scrapes. He'd quickly learned not to ever use the word "impossible" around her. Ever. It had happened often enough that all she had to do now was give him a pointed look. Enough years had passed that it was more affectionate than anything, but... 

The tension in the front of his head worsened. His time sense was the same, but there were days where he felt like he was still on the wrong frequency. Right now was one of those times. The points of the war were rigid, set in such a way that he could see the threads taut and immobile. But everything in the present was in such flux that he couldn't quite pin it down. Where he would have once been able to allow the flux moments to settle, see his options, everything was up in the air. A quick scan allowed him to see that he and Rose were not mentioned in any bits of recorded history, but that didn't mean that it couldn't change.

He was heading off into the real unknown.

He hated doing that.

Oh, he loved the adventure bit, but when it came to his own life, day-to-day, it was more conquering the unknown to make it _his_ known. He'd always had enough passing knowledge to know whether the danger would be absolutely destructive or not. It was easier to let his fellow travelers think that he was just throwing himself headlong into whatever new thing came along the pike instead of stopping and explaining all of the information he already knew of their situation.

Places like Krop-Tor? The Time Lords had created black holes, and he’d had several contingencies in mind as the last buckle clicked open and let him fall. He'd known the TARDIS was still alive, as he could still feel her. Also, Rose's Tech-Genesis English would have been vastly antiquated to the explorers.

But therein was a time where he encountered impossibility in his rigid views of the universe.

He sniffed. Not that he wanted to really think on that.

But right now, he had no idea what they were supposed to do to get home. Jack didn't exist in this universe- there'd be no hijacking the Chula ship to take them and the TARDIS back to the twenty-first century.

Before he realized that his feet had taken him there, he was standing outside of what looked like a bedroom. Their new bedroom on the TARDIS. He pushed open the heavy cherry wood door to see the same dim glow in the room. It was utilitarian at best as the TARDIS was still developing. The furniture matched the door, however. And in the middle of the bed, curled into a ball around her pillow was Rose. Normally she was a sprawler, and he'd been on the receiving end of a few of her inadvertent smacks as recently as the week before.

She only curled up when she was worried. Or unsure. The Doctor started to undress to join her, still concerned at what he saw. Even though he'd seen it before, it had been a while.

 

~oOo~

 

**Bergen. 09/04/08.**

He rubbed a towel over his hair, the fringe still dripping onto the white shirt that still smelled vaguely of its plastic wrapping. Jackie had insisted they stop to get him something to wear while his and Rose's clothes that she _swore_ stunk of "those pepper-pot things" were being laundered by the hotel. Pete had sent along hers and Rose's things, but of course, they hadn't planned for him.

Well, he hadn't planned for him, either.

He pulled up the admittedly soft tartan pajama bottoms Rose had mercifully quickly chosen for his sake. She'd taken her shower first and was probably waiting for him.

They hadn't had a chance to talk on the zeppelin ride from the beach as Jackie had always been present, and the showers had been a quick excuse for more delay.

But it was now or never. And never wasn’t an option.

Taking in a gulp of air, the Doctor pushed the bathroom door open.

Instead of meeting Rose's eyes, he saw her curled up like a shrimp around a massive pillow. Her wet hair tangled about her face, her mouth hanging open.

Asleep.

His lips rose in an affectionate smile. She was just as worried and confused about everything, which made it much simpler for him.

They were still together, even in this.

As he rounded the corner of the bed to get to the recliner, his pinky toe rammed into the bureau. At his involuntary yelp, Rose stirred, brushing her hair from her face. "Ya okay?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Go back to sleep." 

She nodded blearily. He made his way to the recliner, stepping gingerly.

"Hey." Her still-scratchy voice caused him to turn back. Her hand was reaching out to him, fingers barely wiggling. 

As he moved to take her hand, she instead grasped his wrist. He waited confusedly as she rolled over, tugging until his arm was around her waist. Not sure how close she wanted him, he stayed back, though his body curled in close to hers.

Rose then laced their fingers together, scooting back until her shoulders were against his chest. He relaxed, his breath causing her hair to ruffle.

"Night night, Doctor," she murmured, half-conscious. Just as she had every night on the TARDIS before she went to bed.

"Night.”

~oOo~

**TARDIS. present time.**

Rose hastily zipped up the knee-length skirt that the Doctor had set aside for her. “Period correct!” She rolled her eyes as she heard his voice in her head. Of course he could dress as he would normally, the git. Her in these bloody pantyhose with a seam and clunky heels- not exactly what she would wear on a normal day. Torchwood required some business wear and only rarely at that. At least the blue wool cardigan was soft.

A stray curl tickled her neck, and she pushed the hair off her neck by flipping it with both hands. She had curled her hair under in the 1940s style, but without too much fuss. There was a war on. Thankfully she had also gone to her natural brown recently. She’d shudder to think of the straw that her hair would turn into using peroxides without proper conditioning.

“You ready?” The Doctor’s voice trailed in from the hallway.

“Just a mo’!” she yelled, fastening in her earrings.

“Usually you’re the one rushing me out the door, even when I’ve barely got a leg in my trousers, let alone…” His voice came to a sudden halt when he rounded the doorway. Rose looked up to see his face reflected in the mirror, a soft half-smile gracing his face.

She turned to face him. “What do you think, then?”

“You look lovely. Considering.” His eyes twinkled. “Especially considering.”

She grinned up at him. “Considering what, this time?”

“Considering you’re mine,” he said simply.

Rose cocked her head to the side. “Bit caveman-possessive, don’t you think?”

He didn’t take her bait. “I didn’t say it wasn’t a mutual thing.” He wrapped an arm about her shoulders, drawing her in.

“Mmm,” she mumbled into his shirt, enjoying the light smell of his aftershave. “So you’ve finally conceded to getting a ‘Property of Rose Tyler’ tramp stamp?”

“As long as you get a sonic across your side.”

She huffed, the joke being almost overdone over the years, but the familiarity of it helped to ground her in this crazy situation. A rumble of her stomach broke the moment, and she tugged on his arm. “Let’s go confront London. I could murder some beans and toast.”

As they entered the alleyway outside, Rose blinked against the uncharacteristically bright sun.

The Doctor straightened the collar of his overcoat, striding past, and she called after him, “Wait, where are we going?”

He turned, still walking backwards. “Just until we happen upon someone. We’ll keep to these alleyways where wash is still hanging.” Rose joined him, taking his arm, which he accommodated instinctually. “There’s bound to be someone keeping an eye on that wash- and they’ll know somewhere we can stay. Think of it as _Desperate Housewives_ with a mix of _Rear Window._ Someone’s always keeping an eye out.” 

She rolled her eyes as she continued to follow. She knew London better than he did; she knew the streets, the culture- and the cliquishness. Busybodies hanging around the balconies and entryways of the estate- she’d grown up with the lot. But he was right. Keep to the areas that had something hanging around outside, and you’d generally run into someone pretty quickly. 

London really didn’t look that different, outside of more cobblestone streets and the dated clothes hanging. And the cars. One drove past, its squawking horn causing her to jolt as she and the Doctor jumped to the sidewalk, narrowly missing getting splashed as the car passed through a puddle.

“Makes you feel right at home, eh?” The Doctor nudged her in the side before continuing down the street.

She was about to reply when she was jostled in the back. “Oof!”

“Sorry, dear!” the woman behind her said. She couldn’t actually see the woman, as the laundry in the basket was tall enough to hide her face. “Couldn’t see you for the wash.”

The woman’s broad cockney was thicker than Rose’s own, but made her feel less alienated than she had since the TARDIS crashed. After a turn, she set the basket on her stoop, and Rose finally got a look at her. She looked to be in her early sixties- her hair was thinning and she had a bit of a waddle in her step to compensate for her size. Though her face seemed round and pleasant, her eyes made short work of both Rose and the Doctor, who had come up behind her. Rose felt as if those shrewd blue eyes were taking her apart piece by piece with an efficiency that would make the most skilled of intelligence agents jealous. Then, just as quickly, the woman gave a short laugh, bracing her hands on her lower back. “Just give me a second for the back, and then I’ll greet you proper.”

Rose liked her already.

“I’m Rose, and this is my husband, Dr. Tyler.” The Doctor offered his hand first, which the woman shook firmly, if Rose could judge by the Doctor’s slight wince.

“Mmm. A physician, eh? Lucky girl.” She merely patted Rose’s hand, as if in camaraderie, but there was a wicked glint in her eye. “I’m Mrs. Fenn.” She sat herself down slowly on a step. “So, what brings you hereabouts?”

“We’re here for work, actually.” The Doctor moved closer, hands in pockets. “Just came in. We’re looking for a place to stay for a few months.” 

“What sort of work?”

The Doctor hesitated before answering, “War effort.” He pulled out the psychic paper, something Rose had acquired courtesy of Donna’s parallel world, holding it out for the woman to examine.

The woman nodded with a somewhat skeptically raised brow, but then she slapped her hands on her lap. “I’ve actually got an upstairs flat to let. The husband’s a solicitor and is often gone, and I’m out and about myself most of the time.” She narrowed her eyes. “Any funny business from you all, especially with a war on, would get me tetchy.” She nodded firmly as if she had just ordered the building of the pyramids. “Forty pounds a month.”

“May we see it first?” the Doctor asked politely.

“C’mon, then.” The woman trudged up the stairs and took them into her home. It was neat and clean, though a bit on the shabby side. You could tell that the family had lived there for decades, wearing into the place like an old shoe.

They walked up two sets of stairs before Mrs. Fenn stopped and fiddled with a set of keys before letting them into the flat.

The room was spartan, with one sofa and a bookshelf. Rose could see a small kitchenette behind a partition that led to a hallway and a couple of doors off to the side. Mrs. Fenn hobbled past her, naming off each room, obviously doubting their powers of observation.

“And here’s the bedroom.” She led them to a room with an iron-framed double bed in the center. The Doctor looked down to Rose, waiting for her approval. She wondered if the walls were painted or papered and made to touch the one nearest her. Before she could get a word in, Mrs. Fenn interjected, “No worries about noise you might make, dear. Brass bands couldn’t be heard through these walls.”

Rose hoped her face wasn’t every shade of her namesake. The Doctor just grinned down at her. _Not touching this one with a ten-foot-pole._  

Drawing her hand back as if a snake had tried to bite her, Rose replied, “It’ll be fine.” She was proud that she didn’t sound as if she wanted to melt into the floor.

“Very good.” Mrs. Fenn tottered out of the room. “You’ll have things to bring in, yeah?”

“We’ll have to pick them up, actually.” The Doctor was still trying not to laugh, and Rose gave him a glare. He continued, unruffled, “Could we get keys?” 

“Shout when you come downstairs. I’ll have the spare ready for you.” The floorboards creaked as Mrs. Fenn made her way out and down the stairs.

The Doctor wheezed out a giggle whilst trying to dodge a smack aimed at his shoulder. “I think I may like this Mrs. Fenn.”

Rose huffed, rolling her eyes. She then let out a breath, spinning slowly, eyes casting about around the room. “Well, that was quick, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “Eh, gift horse. Not everything has to be an uphill battle.” She leveled a look at him, which made him raise his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Granted, it _is_ us. But I wouldn’t overthink it.”

“Kay. So where we off to?”

“Well, we need to get you some changes of clothes from the TARDIS. I’ll get the spare suit, and we’ll be set. You’re not expected to have many things, especially with the war.” 

“And then?" 

“Then we come back and start singing ‘Danny Boy’ at the top of our lungs.” At her confused look, he continued, blinking owlishly back at her, “The good madam obviously thought we are musically inclined, right?”

He ducked in the doorway as a handy knickknack sailed towards his head. “The piiiiiipes, the piiiiipes are caaaaaallllliiiiiiingggg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lyrics from “Danny Boy” by Frederic Weatherly in this chapter._


	3. open your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Rose talk about what they are going to do.

**13/9/1940. late evening.**

A lock of hair kept dangling in front of her face. No matter how many times she tried to twist it into the rest of her hair, Rose couldn’t get that curl to stay. Huffing and then watching it slowly fall in front of her face, her eyes refocused on the things that she had yet to put away in their living room. There had been a chair or two randomly stuck in various rooms, and some bits and bobs on the floor in front of her that she had felt would make their flat seem a little more like home. She had also snuck a pair of jim-jam bottoms that she was now wearing as she sorted. 

Mrs. Fenn delightedly accepted the ninety pounds that the Doctor had managed to scrape together from the TARDIS. Which reminded her- she needed to have a word with him about the whole “no money” thing he had tried to pull on her from the start. If he was able to find that much in time-period correct currency…she was going to go have words with him.

Pushing up off her knees, she padded towards their bedroom where he had been putting things away. She laid her hand against the jamb and had been about to say, “So you’ve been holding out on me all of this time?” when her eyes lighted on him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from her, hands folded together with his mouth resting against them. Though he wasn’t nearly as private about his thoughts as he had been whilst traveling with her before, she tried to give him his space. 

Her lips twitched. He had been used to having a lot of it.

 

~oOo~

 

**London. Tyler home.** **13/04/08.**

The spring night was cooler than normal, and she was quite thankful she had thought to pull on an oversized jumper before going outside. Rose wrapped her arms about her torso against the chill as she trudged up a small hill in the back of their garden. _Where was he?_  

The Doctor had mumbled something about going upstairs as he left the dinner table. Everything had been good. Great, even. She’d been able to breathe easier than she had in years; every smile no longer felt tight, as if it didn’t properly fit anymore.  Even her mum had begun to dote on him, trying to quietly make sure that his favorite foods were in stock, asking Rose about his living preferences on the TARDIS. All under the guise of teasing, but Rose knew Jackie’s game. 

He had seemed…good. Every time she would feel his eyes on her, she’d look up and see him with a small smile playing at his lips. He hadn’t been taking her hand as much as he used to…but they’re just finding their feet, right?

But that was it. She wasn’t sure how he felt about everything. And she was afraid to push him too far too soon to ask.

And he hadn’t kissed her again.

Rose shook her head to try and clear it. It hadn’t even been a week. But for the Doctor, he hadn’t said much. They’d been so busy in returning to London and finally resting that they hadn’t had time to talk.

She just didn’t know.

She crested another small hill to see him at the foot of it, sitting with his arms stretched out in front of him, elbows resting on his knees.

She was debating on whether to disturb him or not when he called out, “Come down here.”

Stepping gingerly, lest she disturb the blanket of quiet, she reached him and settled a small distance away. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

He didn’t turn to her, so she used the opportunity to study his profile. Same hooked nose, same freckles, same ear with a bend. A few more lines around the eyes.  As if he had heard her thought, he closed his eyes, head lowering. 

She risked scooting closer. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m all right,” he said automatically, lifting up to meet her gaze. Her look must have mirrored her thoughts, because he winced slightly and amended, “I’ll be all right.” 

She bit her lip. There was so much he lost, so much he gave up, just to be here with her. Was that what he actually wanted? Or did he feel that he didn’t have a choice?

Rose turned and looked at the dark, empty sky. Blotted out by the London lights, for the most part. “You know, whenever I was here…the first time, that is-“ There was a rustle of grass beside her, but he didn’t say anything, so she continued. “It was suffocating. Mum and Pete, they were great, but I could always feel them watching me. Mum pitying me, trying to occupy me with telly or trying to convince me to go back to school. Pete at least gave me a job, something to keep my mind off things. Gave me something to work towards.” She bit on a thumbnail for a moment. “I had to get out sometimes, though. Be alone with just the stars above. Remind myself that though I was stuck in this universe, I wasn’t trapped. I had people who loved me, and that I could still make a stand.” She swallowed. “Even when I missed you so much I could barely breathe, I still had a future.”

She didn’t realize she was curled up with her arms around her knees until her legs started to tingle with how hard she was holding them. Letting her arms fall, she straightened her legs out, allowing the joints to pop. He still hadn’t said anything. 

“You gave me that, you know?” She peeked over at him, tucking her hair behind her ear.

His eyes couldn’t settle on one part of her face.  He finally asked, “Gave you what?” 

“You made me believe that I could make a difference. That I could do something that mattered, _really mattered_ , no matter where I was, no matter who I was.” Just as she noticed the tear that had slipped from her eye, his thumb was there brushing it away. 

The Doctor moved closer to her, the hand that had been at her cheek now on hers, threading their fingers together. “Rose, I meant it. I’ll be fine. I just- I don’t want you to feel obligated to me. I know things aren’t- they aren’t what you expected. Most likely not even what you want.”

Her jaw dropped. “You sure that brain of yours is actually working?”

He spluttered, eyes wide with surprise. “W-what?” 

“What in the world are you talking about? Not what I want?” 

 “I just thought earlier about how you were given mere minutes to decide your life. And really, I wasn’t giving you much of a choice.”

“You mean _he_ wasn’t,” she said with just a little bitterness.

He shook his head, scoffing. “Either way, that’s what I’m trying to give you now. A choice.”

She sat there staring at him before she said, very quietly, “Do you want to leave?”

“No,” he said firmly. He then sighed, raking a hand through his hair, again looking towards the sky. “I just- I don’t want you to feel obligated. Things are different now. I won’t be able to travel for several years yet, and I’m not sure how I’m going to…adapt to the slow life, as it were.” 

Rose let out a large breath. “Well, that’s certainly a relief.” She smacked her hands on her thighs, and stood to her feet. “No use for you. So c’mon, let’s get you packed up and out.”

His eyes shifted from shock to indignation and back again so quickly, she couldn’t keep a straight face, and began to giggle. He grasped her hand again, pulling her back down. He misjudged how hard to tug, however, and she fell into a tangle of limbs with him.

After their laughter subsided, she looked up from where she was lying in the grass to see him hovering over her. His eyes softened from their mirth, and he brushed her hair from her face.

“I told you forever, do you remember?” He nodded, his thumb tracing her cheekbone slowly. “And it wasn’t about the traveling.” She looked down briefly. “Granted, this wasn’t what I had in mind, but it’s still what I want.”

She looked back up to him, and saw his lips curl up before he responded, “Me, too.”

The pounding of her heart that had just subsided began to pick up again. His eyes darted down to her lips, and then back to hers before he began to lean down. Both of their eyes stayed open until that first pressure of their mouths together. She moved her hands up to frame his face as her lips parted underneath his, which he quickly reciprocated.

This man who had seen thousands of such nights on thousands of worlds wanted to be with her. Wanted to slog it out by her side. And he still looked at her as if she had hung the moon. 

She broke away first, panting. He laid his forehead against hers, and her eyes closed. 

“You okay?” she gasped out.

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Stuck with you? That’s not so bad.” He again captured her lips before she could respond.

 

~oOo~

 

**13/9/1940. moments later.**

 

She turned to leave before his voice stopped her.

“Hey.” He hadn’t turned. 

She crossed the room and crawled up onto the bed behind him. Bracketing him with her legs, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. A low sigh rumbled from him as he slumped a little against her.

“You okay?” she mumbled against his shirt.

A moment passed before he replied, “Just thinking.”

“About?” She leaned her chin on his shoulder.

“What the hell we’re going to do now.”

She harrumphed. “Planning it all out, then?”

The hand he was resting on her knee began rubbing soothing circles. “Something like that.” 

She ran her chin gently along his shoulder. “So what has you like this?”

“Rose, I have to join up." 

She stopped her movement suddenly with a sharp intake of breath. 

He gently squeezed her knee. “I have to,” he whispered.

After a few torturous moments, Rose’s brain finally functioned enough for her to ask, “Why?”

“I can only keep up the façade for so long.” He shifted to the right, pulling himself free of her hold so he could face her. “You know how well it would go over for an able-bodied man to hang around here for much longer.”

“But isn’t there something else you could do?” 

He shook his head. “Intelligence? They’d look more thoroughly into my background, and the TARDIS didn’t have the power to create one for me yet. I could work an ambulance, though. Keep myself from most of the fighting.”

The thought of her husband carrying a gun made her want to sob. It wasn’t that she worried that he wouldn’t if he were pushed to it because the people he loved were in danger, but she knew what it meant to him. What war meant to him. The demons that sometimes woke him in a cold sweat, and she had to hold his hand (or him) to allow him to go back to sleep.

He chucked under her chin, his eyes gentle as he leaned in to kiss her. “But that’ll keep. Let’s go to bed.” 

Rose slipped under the covers and watched him undress. He caught her gaze and waggled his eyebrows. “Could always entertain the troops, what with the way you look at me. Surely they’re a less discriminating audience than yourself.”

She snorted. “You in a coconut bra would be a laugh for them, if nothing else.” 

He narrowed his eyes facetiously, and after blowing out the bedside candle, he got in bed. She rolled over, allowing him to spoon up behind her. 

His breathing had started to even out when a thought came to her. When she was in school, the Red Cross would come in annually for a blood drive. They’d usually have an assembly where they watched a documentary on the organization, as it was usually held close to a career fair.  But the Red Cross didn’t-

“Doctor?" 

He sniffed. “Hmm?”

“What about the Red Cross?”

He didn’t say anything, but the hand that was wrapped around her waist tightened just the least bit.

“Doctor?”

“It’s a thought.” He kissed the back of her head. “A brilliant thought.”

“Couldn’t I come with you?”

“I don’t see why not.” He chuckled. “Not that you’ve ever been deterred by impossibilities before.” 

“See? Figured it all out.”

“My fantastic little human.” She knew it was teasing, but still after all of these years she warmed to the thought that they were together, despite all the odds against them. She snuggled back, letting out a contented sigh. He’d be able to help people. It was one of the things that she found most endearing about him- that spark whenever he’d somehow fix a problem and save the day. And for being called, “The Doctor,” though she knew that he was perfectly capable of practicing medicine, she’d rarely got to see him do actual doctoring. 

Her mind floated to the hospital soaps her mum had so loved. Tawdry affairs in medical supply cupboards, masks and scrubs…she indulged the thought of the Doctor scrubbed up, as she wouldn’t get the delight of seeing him in uniform.

But did he realize…?

“Doctor?” 

His voice had taken on its sleepy, raspy tone. “Oh, what now?” He poked her thigh.

“Will I have to wear a uniform of some sort?”

He huffed, though his fingers on her waist began soothingly brushing up and down. “Most likely. More depending on what you’ll be doing, I suppose.”

“That mean you don’t get to wear the suits?”

His fingers froze.

**Author's Note:**

>  _I do not own_ Doctor Who _or its brilliant characters._
> 
>   _Chapter titles come from songs by Snow Patrol. Yes, on purpose._


End file.
